


all the way through your bed

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, kink: toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-28
Updated: 2011-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 07:58:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/222825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon can't get enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the way through your bed

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to corbae for her beta. She made this story suck much less. <3

Brendon coats his fingers with lube. It's easy to spread his legs and let his hand wander down until he reaches his entrance. He rubs over it gently before he slowly presses one finger inside. Adjusting to the first one always takes a moment weird, when he has to remind himself to relax and open up. The second one feels much better. Brendon wishes his arms were longer, so he could get a better angle, but he's stuck at two fingers, trying to get deeper and failing miserably.

It’s teasing, pure and simple. Brendon is hyperaware of the dildo on his night desk. His gaze keeps drifting towards it, but every time he lays eyes on it he thinks, _not yet_. He likes feeling like this, wanting but being denied. It feels good to drag it out and not immediately go for the dildo. That edge of desperation that comes when he tries to push his fingers in deeper, that longing for something more--it turns him on even more. Brendon's fingers slip out, too much lube and the weird angle making it hard to keep them where he wants them.

Brendon whimpers quietly, strains his arms, arches his back, but this is as far as he can go without hurting his shoulder. It's not enough. When he can't stand it one second longer he reaches for the dildo with shaking hands. He licks over the tip, grimacing at the taste of latex, before spreading lube all over the toy. He doesn't know why he licks it every time; perhaps, he thinks, because he misses giving blow jobs. He loves giving blow jobs, possibly even more than getting them, loves the weight of another man's cock in his mouth. They just came back from touring, and then it's just a big no-no, which he had to learn early on during their career. Having to sing loudly every night and having a cock shoved down your throat don't mix very well.

The dildo and Brendon's hands are now slippery, and Brendon almost drops the dildo. He wipes his fingers on the sheets, and now he can grip the dildo tightly. He takes a deep breath and relaxes before he starts pushing inside. It fills him up completely, and Brendon spreads his legs as far apart as they will go.

It only takes him a few thrusts to find the perfect angle, where he’s hitting his prostate each time. It's so good, and Brendon just wants more and harder and faster. He moans loudly, tossing his head restlessly from side to side as the pleasure builds. His arms are starting to hurt and he’s jerking and shaking, already overwhelmed but still wanting more.

Brendon cries out when he comes, his orgasm hitting him hard. He can feel his come landing on his chest and stomach. His ass is swollen now, sensitive, and the dildo feels fucking huge, bigger than before. He pushes it in against his prostate and flicks the little switch on the end. He gasps at the first vibrations and starts shuddering as little jolts of pleasure hit him again and again. He can feel the build-up of another orgasm. It’s too much and not enough.

His eyes roll back when he comes again, dry this time, his dick twitching and only half-hard. He leaves the dildo in even though it's starting to hurt a little now. He wants more, doesn't want to stop yet.

He gasps when Spencer steps in and gently pushes his arms over his head, the motion jarring the dildo inside him, making it move so that he loses that awesome connection. He whimpers when the dildo is first switched off and then pulled out.

"Hey, shh," he hears through a haze of want and _now_ and _please_.

"Please," he says, and his voice sounds hoarse, like he’s spent the whole night screaming, and he's not sure that he hasn’t.

Spencer hitches Brendon's legs up on his shoulder. Brendon thinks he should open his eyes and see what's happening. He blinks them open, and Spencer is laughing down at him.

"You are amazing," he tells Brendon, awe evident in his voice. Brendon just moans in reply and is rewarded when Spencer slides in, already lubed up.

Brendon doesn't know how he manages to move his legs, but he wraps them around Spencer's waist, keeping him close. "Hm, good," he says, arching against Spencer. Spencer thrusts slowly and Brendon throws his head back, panting, and pushes down. "God, please, please, please," he says and Spencer doesn't disappoint him. He sets a fast rhythm, and it's perfect, hitting all the right spots, and Brendon just wants to feel this for the rest of his life. He thinks he maybe says that out loud, because Spencer laughs and then kisses him. It's wet and dirty and captivating.

Brendon feels like he's shaking apart at the seams, can feel his body gearing up for the next orgasm, and he's pretty sure he's babbling nonsense by now, but, god, he just wants.

Spencer's fucking him fast and steady, and Brendon thinks that means they'll go for at least one more round, slow and gentle. And afterwards Spencer's fingers, sliding in and out of him, coated with lotion. Brendon‘s torn between wanting Spencer to draw it out and wanting him to finish quickly so he can have that gentle, leisurely fuck and Spencer taking care of him.

Brendon's long gone the way of overstimulation. Every touch is too much, and Brendon's riding the edge between pleasure and pain. He’s clinging to Spencer, hanging on tight, and Spencer's pressing kisses, little pecks really, to the corner of his mouth. He keeps telling Brendon how good he is: "You feel amazing," he says and, "I love you," and, "open up, let me in".

Brendon's taken completely by surprise when he comes again. He gasps and clenches around Spencer. He feels rather than hears Spencer moan against his shoulder, but mostly he's vividly aware of Spencer coming, too, his come filling Brendon, and he automatically tightens his legs, doesn't Spencer let go.

Spencer gently lowers himself, covering Brendon up. He keeps Brendon anchored. Brendon notices that he’s gripping Spencer’s shoulders tightly. His fingers have cramped and it takes a lot of effort to loosen them. Spencer takes Brendon's hand and kisses his palm. Brendon puts his hand on Spencer's cheek. He’s overwhelmed and his ass is aching and he’s exhausted, and underneath all of that _it's not enough_ is coursing through his veins.

"Spencer," Brendon says, and his voice doesn't sound like his own. It's deep and gravelly and sounds like he's been chain-smoking and deep-throating all night. Spencer kisses him, gentle and slow. Brendon wants to stay wrapped up in this moment.

"Wow," Spencer says.

"Yeah," he replies, and rolls his hips. He‘s still tight and tense and coiled up inside.

"Bren," Spencer says quietly, "It'll be too much."

"No, it won't," Brendon says. "Trust me. I've been doing this way longer than you have, and I can tell you exactly how much my body can take." He rolls his hips again, and Spencer groans. Brendon can feel him getting hard and, fuck, it's great. His eyes roll back and he whimpers. Spencer bites his earlobe.

"Come on, stay with me," Spencer says. "You have to tell me whether it's good or not."

"Spence," Brendon whines. "It's fucking wonderful, keep doing that." Spencer keeps rolling his hips, small movements that are amplified by how sensitive Brendon is. Everything feels so much more intense this way. Brendon sighs contentedly. It's been years since he’s been able to get fucked like this, and it took a lot of explaining and assuring Spencer that this was exactly what Brendon wanted.

Spencer hooks his arms under Brendon's knees and pushes Brendon's legs back so that he can get deeper. While Brendon misses Spencer lying on top of him, Spencer's now directly rubbing against his prostate. His legs are shaking slightly, and he's so glad that Spencer's holding on to them because Brendon cannot keep his body still any longer.

Spencer doesn't let Brendon hurry him. He keeps rolling his hips in small circles, adding a thrust there and here, but he's going so slow that Brendon thinks he might die. He can't reach Spencer well like this, so he's grabbing the sheets, his hands fisted tight in the fabric, and he moans at every thrust.

"Just a little longer," Spencer tells him. "Fuck, you feel so good right now. You're all loose and hot. God, if you could see yourself right now. You look fucking debauched." Brendon grins, content that he's being good for Spencer. He wants to keep being good for Spencer, especially since Spencer is being so wonderfully good to him.

He must have said that out loud, because Spencer chuckles, and his thrusts speed up a little. "You've never not been good for me," he tells Brendon and that's awesome, that's really, really great. Brendon smiles, he sinks into the sheets, all left-over tension seeping out of his body. He misses it when the pleasure crests and the wave of his, god, he's lost count, orgasm crashing over him and his world whites out completely.

When Brendon finds his way back to reality Spencer is thrusting into him hard. Brendon's bent almost in half and Spencer's hips are snapping back and forward and, fuck, Brendon is going to fly apart. Then Spencer cries out and bottoms out and Brendon feels his come inside him and finally, finally, he feels utterly and completely done for the night.

"God," Spencer croaks as he slumps down on his elbows.

"Fuck," Brendon agrees.

Spencer pulling out doesn't feel nearly as nice as getting fucked. Brendon's ass is on fire, swollen and tender. When Spencer pops open the bottle of lotion, Brendon whimpers. He doesn't want anything else near his ass tonight. "Sh," Spencer tells him while he's turning Brendon over. "I'll be careful, okay?"

The lotion is wonderfully cool on Brendon's skin and even Spencer's finger breaching him doesn't feel too bad. It doesn't exactly feel good (Brendon thinks he might have actually reached the limit of what his ass can take), but the lotion soothes the burn. By the time Spencer's done, it's become a dull, distant ache. Brendon thinks he’ll sit down very carefully for the next couple of days, but it won't be anything compared to the last time, when he couldn't sit. Another plus right now is that the other person in his band knows about Brendon's predicament. Last time, Brendon had to come up with plausible explanations for why he wouldn't sit down. It had been a very tiring few days.

Brendon still makes a sad sound when Spencer withdraws his finger. Spencer brushes a kiss against Brendon's shoulder. "Don't be so greedy," he says, and Brendon can feel his grin against his skin. "With the right motivation I might be convinced to do that again.”

Brendon giggles. "All the motivation you need is me shaking my ass at you," he replies He stretches his arms and legs, relishing the burn in his muscles.

Spencer snorts. "I want you to know that your ass is not as irresistible as you think it is."

"It totally is," Brendon murmurs. The sheets are nicely warm under him, the fabric soft against his skin, and Spencer's idly rubbing little circles on Brendon's back. Brendon wants to stay like this forever. Spencer presses another kiss against Brendon's shoulder before he draws the sheets over them. Brendon thinks it would be easier if he moved, but his muscles are all so relaxed now, his entire body heavy.

"Good night," Spencer whispers as he lies down on his side next to Brendon. His breath ghosts over Brendon's skin.

"G'night," Brendon says into the pillow. Spencer laughs at him, but he wraps one arm around Brendon's waist before he burrows into the pillow. Brendon breathes one last sigh of contentment before he falls asleep.  



End file.
